


And I'll be Whole (As Long As I'm Yours)

by BroodyJC



Series: The Luthor's Rules [5]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, it's fluff, it's just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25786999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BroodyJC/pseuds/BroodyJC
Summary: “I want another child.” A beat passed, Lena could her the way her heart faltered in her chest, then Kara pressed on. “I want to have another child with the woman I’m in love with.”Ever-changing.Ever-changing.“Well, if she doesn’t want one I’m always available for the offer.”And maybe Lena would spend the next twenty years trying to find the words to describe the smile Kara gave her in that moment.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Series: The Luthor's Rules [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/649544
Comments: 18
Kudos: 305





	And I'll be Whole (As Long As I'm Yours)

Krypto had been nothing but a puppy the last time they were here.

And Lena had spent the whole drive pretending to be annoyed by his tendency of trying to climb into her lap. Or maybe she kept up the facade because Kara urged him on every time his clumsy paws failed to cover the large space between the front seats.

Their bags were light, just clothes for a couple of days and enough snacks so Kara wouldn’t complain when Lena ultimately made her eat a meal with more vegetables than she was used to consuming in a year.

They left National City behind with each passing second to get away, so that the two of them could exist together and forget about the rest, because too many thing were happening too fast and both of them could use a break. Only one bedroom was occupied. The house was quiet around them, the sound of chirping birds in the morning and crickets in the afternoon and Krypto’s sporadic barks were the only noises they heard for two days.

Lena had cradled a glass of wine in a hand, a book in the other and Kara’s head easily found it’s way to her lap while they sat together on the couch. Kara had made her goal to learn how to cook, even if the whole reason was to be nearer Lena for a few more minutes, snaking her hands across her middle, and planting soft kisses behind her ear.

Sunlight woke them up, not the incessant ringing of Lena’s phone a little past five, and Kara tugged at Lena’s hand, urging her at little faster, as they walked between the trees around the house, keeping Krypto in their line of sight as they explored.

It had been a little perfect, a lot perfect, back then. It had been exactly what Lena needed, and then exactly what she wanted.

That had been their first road trip together.

But nine years go too fast. And she can’t help the smile that takes over her face once she glaces to the backseat, to find Kyle, all disproportionate limbs to his actual size, disheveled black hair that Lena’s been begging him to cut it for the past two weeks, brown eyes way too focused at his phone to pay attention to anything besides Jax’s head that’s currently laying on top of his thigh.

A lot has changed. She doesn’t think she would have it any other way.

Nevertheless, some things stay the same. Like Krypto never realizing how much he’s grown in his first year of life, and still thinking that Lena’s lap is the most comfortable place in the world. Even if he’s sixty pounds of nothing but muscle, from the ten years of restless running after her wife.

And, really, maybe if it was seven years ago, actually, scratch that, if it was two years ago, Lena wouldn’t think twice before whining to Kara ( _you just had to get a_ dog) when he looked at her like that before she crumbled and allowed him to go to his favorite spot. But, now, she helps him up, remembering his heavy breathing whenever he got up in the mornings and the once in a blue moon limp on his back left paw.

He was getting older, because time stopped for no one, and she would cherish the time she had left to the last seconds.

So, when Kara stops the car at the entryway of their ( _their_ ) beach house, she actually lightly grabs Krypto’s collar, so he doesn’t move when she leans to her side to open the door. He waits, patiently, until she scratches the back of his ear and leave a quick kiss to the top of his head, he waits until she helps him out, he waits until Kyle calls for him while Jax is already exploring the unfamiliar place.

And, yes, maybe it was a little too early to start getting emotional, but something tugs at the inside of her chest when Kyle kneels down to let Krypto and Jax slam into him, the sound of his laughter carried to where she sat frozen in the passenger seat.

Maybe it’s the six years old in her, the one who fought so hard to keep the tears from being released, with shaking clenched fists at her sides, and a stern look from Lillian.

Maybe it’s the fourteen years old in her, who would curl up in a strange bed, in a strange place, forcing herself not to beg to come back home.

(It still baffles her a little how could she ever think of the Luthor’s as _home._ But, then, she also only needs to think a little back to Lex and it all makes sense again before crumbling back down.)

Maybe it’s the twenty-five years old in her, who couldn’t quite believe how her life turned out.

Or, maybe, it was all of them, crawling inside of her skin, mixing together and molding the person she’s become.

A person who cries while watching her son playing with their dogs. A person who cries from realization that they are growing up and eventually wouldn’t need them as much.

(How little Lillian would think of her now.)

It’s only, maybe, a minute from when Jax took off sprinting in the front yard, grass a little higher than Lena would personally approve and branches in a serious need of trimming, before Kara comes to find her.

With the sun high shinning in a low halo around her face, fingers extended patiently waiting for Lena to grasp them in a gesture that could only be described as chivalrous. Like she would happily wait for Lena right there, like Lena had any chance of not going towards her the first chance she got.

She never stood a chance anyway.

Lena feels the laughter thrumming on Kara’s rib cage, on the very place she surged to be tucked under, her hands grasping at any piece of fabric she could feel from the back of Kara’s shirt.

There would always be a sense of comfort from being wrapped around Kara, from the ever present warmth emanating from her skin, to the deep, rich smell of her skin that was unmistakably _Kara_.

“Oh, Rao.” Her voice is light, a little breathless if Lena knows her correctly, as she tugs Lena’s body closer, like any inch between them was too much. “Please tell me you’re not crying already.”

“I’m not.”

She definitely was.

(The proof was displayed in the front of Kara’s button down, were the fabric became darker from the tears she’d spilled, and there was really no point of lying.

She could never hide it. Whenever the thought of crying came to mind, her nose would turn red and her eyes would puff out before the first tear ever made its way down her cheek.

And Kara (God, Kara) would kiss her reddening cheeks, touch her jaw with the backs of her knuckles, murmur words of reassurance to her lips, and she would forget why she’d ever needed to cry in the first place.)

“Of course you’re not.” Then lips are being pressed to her eyelids, thumbs cleaning the definitely not there tears, and its all so gentle that Lena’s heart doubles its size inside her chest, threatening to burst out because she’s loved. ( _She’s loved._ ) “Come on, Sam and Alex already picked the kids from school and we kinda have an army to feed.”

**

They thought they were being sneaky, with subtle hand holding underneath the table, and the long glances shared when they thought no one else was paying them any mind, and every single honest to God move of trying to pretend they’re not dating in front of their parents.

(That and the fact that Jamie could never really hide anything from her, from the first day she stepped inside their home.

She still lets her think Kara convinced her that it was her fault their living room table had one leg less when she came back from work one day, because, you know, _super strength and all,_ followed by an awkward laugh and guilty eyes.)

But no one else seems to notice, and really, how do they let the DEO on the hands of Alex when she can’t even figure this out? They had even excused themselves to the bathroom at the same time and it had taken all of Lena’s willpower not to smirk as if she knew. (She did know.)

So she just fills her second glass of wine for the night, leans back into her chair and _waits_.

Alex is retelling a Supergirl adventure from the past week, one that Lena already knew too well because it had made Kara solar flare, get two broken ribs, a deep wound to the left side of her chest and sleep fourteen hours straight. It was also the reason Lena glared at all of them (including Jamie through a Skype call) into agreeing to a weekend away.

It’s late in the night already, they’ve been sitting at the dinner table for a better part of three hours chatting, long after dinner had been served and Luke, Kyle and April had skipped into the living room to watch movies, but it’s nice, and Kara has her hand on her thigh, light circles on the denim of her jeans.

Sometimes it's still strange to remember that this is what family means, talking for hours about absolutely nothing, and hearing their kids tell stories about university, and having Sam tease her just for the sake of it.

Sometimes it’s still hard to wrap her head around the fact that the things she says won’t be held against her, or that she doesn’t have to tiptoe around her words, that this is what if feels like to have a family.

Jamie excuses herself to the kitchen with brown eyes chasing after her around the third round of Alex and Sam bickering, their own odd way of arguing like a married couple, even though _no, Lena, we’re not dating,_ and raising April together from the moment Alex had adopted her and Ruby seeing Alex as a second mother.

Of course they’re not dating.

She kisses Kara’s lips before sliding off her chair, bending down the moment Krypto threatens to get up and follow to cup the side of his face and whisper _stay,_ scratching at his fur until he goes back to laying down. (He’s old, Lena reminds herself, he needs to rest.)

It’s not an ambush, not in the literal sense of the word. Lena just happened to have noticed Alex’s empty beer bottle and they were in need of more wine in between Sam, Ruby and herself.

Her daughter ( _her_ _daughter_ ) smiles down at her when she comes to stand by her side at the sink, as Jamie washes the used glass and she busies herself with the task of opening the white.

It’s not an ambush, of course it’s not, she just uses this one on one time, this mother and daughter time to casually ask, after she slides one full glass to Jamie (she’s on her second year of college, and Lena isn’t naive enough to think she hasn’t gone to a party and drank beer with her friends yet, but she trusts her to make the right choices) and starts working on the others, “So, how long have you been together?”

Jamie chokes on her drink.

Then wide eyes are staring at her, and sure, maybe Jamie is no longer eleven and skittish, after years of not having a home, curled into herself with slumped shoulders and fear, no, she had turned into a beautiful woman who held her head high and laughed care-freely and trusted with her whole heart, but she hasn’t looked so little in such a long time that it surprises Lena.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She only raises an eyebrow at the answer, watches as she fidgets with her hands, a silver ringer on her right thumb and two others on her left hand. Jamie was never able to lie and her left eyes twitches.

“No idea?”

“No idea.” A pause, Jamie bites her lower lip. “Almost a year.”

It’s… not what she was expecting. “Oh...”

“Yeah. It’s just-” She needs a drink, because her daughter has been dating for a whole year and hasn’t told her, because maybe it’s her own fault for not making Jamie know that she could tell her about it, that Lena would never resent her, or judge or- “Mom.”

And it warms her heart, how far they’ve come. She was _mom_ since her thirtieth third birthday, and in those three years it’s yet to fail to bring tears to her eyes, because _no, sweetie, I will never replace your mother and you shouldn’t feel guilty._

Jamie hugs her, her only thought is how tall she grew up to be, even towering two inches over Kara, and how big Kyle already is, and how big he is yet to become.

“I didn’t want to tell everyone at the beginning, because it was all so new and what if it didn’t work out? Then it was serious and real and good, but it took us months to get here and we just didn’t know how, we didn’t know if you would...”

She leans back, stays in her daughters embrace because she would cherish this moments for as long as she was allowed to, enough to look at her in the eyes.

Maybe Jamie only stayed with them for the past eight years, but she looks so much like herself when she was younger that Lena wonders.

It’s not physical, not in the slightest, Jamie is tall, brown hair and golden skin, athletic like Lena never gave a thought of being, all soft, delicate figures. But it’s in her eyes, and the emotion behind them, how they show everything she’s feeling.

“Of course I would approve. All of us would.” She holds Jamie’s hands in her own, smiles at her.

“I mean, it’s Ruby, you know, and you guys are the most important people in our lives so what you think matter.”

 _It’s Ruby_ , and it just made sense.

She stands on her tiptoes to leave a long kiss to her forehead, squeezes her hand one last time before stepping away, gathers what she has to collect and turns around to leave.

Kara is going to be so offended that Lena knew before her, and don’t even get her started on Alex.

“Mom,” Jamie is smiling, it’s the same fifteen year old smile she had given her after the first time Kara took her flying over the city, a glint in her eyes that she knew exactly what she was thinking “please, look surprised when we tell them tomorrow. You know how hurt Ma will be.” Then she pouts, just a little with her bottom lip and Lena is weak. “I’m begging you.”

There’s no other answer, really.

**

It has become some sort of a ritual for them, to share the space of their bathroom, doing their separate things, but always together.

How Kara would change into her baggy t-shirt for the night, while Lena brushed her teeth. How Kara would go around picking up her discarded clothes from the earlier shower, while Lena was too preoccupied spreading moisturizing down her skin. How Kara would sit at the edge of the sink, doing anything in her power to try and distract Lena while she searched for any signs that age had come for her, to try and reassure her she had never been so beautiful.

Truth was the late thirties had come for her, and Kara looked nothing short of a twenty-two years old who spent better part of her free time in a gym. Like she had the day they met and everyday after that.

It was a reminder of what they already knew but failed to accept.

(Kara would be here long after she was gone. Kara would be here long after their kids were gone.)

Tonight, like any other night, starts the same, with Lena taking off her contacts and swapping them for her reading glasses, as Kara reached to discard hers for good. And, as usual, it’s a hard time concentrating on the task at hand, while Kara’s legs kicked absently by her side, a look of what Lena could only describe as adoration on her face as blue eyes shone in her direction.

Tonight, unlike any other night, doesn’t end the same. Because in the low light of their suite in a house they barely go to, after the adults called in for the night with a promise from their children to not stay up too late ( _to_ _morrow,_ Lena thought to herself, _tomorrow she would make a comment to make them know she_ knew), Lena stands horrified, a single strand of hair between her fingers.

A _gray_ hair.

Her first one.

She’s not getting any younger, it seems to scream at her. Loud and clear.

But when she turns to the side, to show Kara the offending gray thing attached to her head, Kara is already looking at her and, no matter how long they’ve been together, no matter how many times she’s been at the receiving end of _that_ look, it would never fail to knock all the air out of her lungs.

Looking at Kara is always a new experience, because her heart would always miss a beat in a different tune, because the light would always shine against her iris in a different way, because Lena would forget, for a single second, that Kara loved her that much, that Kara loved her like that, that Kara loved her.

Simple like that.

(Being loved was still a very strange concept.

Being loved by Kara was being reminded again and again that this kind of devotion actually existed.

 _Devotion._ Maybe that was the best way to describe how Kara looked at her every time.)

Mouth slightly ajar, the tip of a rosy tongue came out to wet smooth lips, a slow grin taking over. Kara nodded once, twice, before reaching her hand out to rest the pads of her fingers on her exposed hip.

It wasn’t a very hard decision to take a step forward, then, another, and another. To drop the hair (she would have time to freak out later because time moved forward for her while it stood still for the love of her life) and rest her palms against muscular shoulders. To sink into the calmness provided by thumbs circling her hipbones.

To give herself fully to Kara, over and over, until she doubted she had anything left to give, only to find a little more and pour it into strong hands that never seemed to let her down.

Kara, a Goddess among men, who gave herself to Lena just as much, who claimed time and time again that the only person who could ever break her was the one she woke up next to.

The outsides of her thighs found the insides of Kara’s, warmth spreading through her skin anywhere they touched and more, it was everywhere. Touching Kara was a new experience every time. It was like learning a new language that was ever-changing.

Life with Kara was ever-changing.

Because Lena knew where this was going, with the way Kara played with the hem of her sleeping shorts, and the nails playfully scraping at her sides, goosebumps erupting from her skin.

Because Lena knew Kara, knew her actions and reactions, knew her brain like no one else ever could. Kara opened her mouth, closed it, then whispered, and Lena had to lean forward a little further to catch the words.

“You’re going to look so fucking hot.”

Lena knew Kara like she was a part of her own mind.

And yet, when they shared words, just the two of them, Kara still managed to surprise her.

With a disbelieving laugh, she leaned down, rested her lips against her wife’s, swallowed the gush of laughter released from Kara as if she, herself, could not believe those were the first words they shared since coming upstairs.

Yeah, it wasn’t really a hard decision then to drop to her knees, in the middle of a bathroom, and kiss the insides of both of Kara’s thighs.

It wasn’t really a hard decision to bring her hands up to Kara’s calves, put just enough pressure on them to Kara get the message and spread her legs further.

It wasn’t really a hard decision to move her lips upwards, the tip of her nose coming to rest against the soft cotton of the hem of Kara’s shirt.

It was, it really was, a hard decision to stop, rest her chin on top of it, and look up, when Kara’s fingertips grazed her jaw.

(She spent the last eleven years trying to find the words to describe every single look Kara has ever given her.

She was a couple of billions behind.

This one is no different.)

“I want another child.” A beat passed, Lena could her the way her heart faltered in her chest, then Kara pressed on. “I want to have another child with the woman I’m in love with.”

_Ever-changing._

_Ever-changing._

“Well, if she doesn’t want one I’m always available for the offer.”

And maybe Lena would spend the next twenty years trying to find the words to describe the smile Kara gave her in that moment.

(She doubted there was a language in the universe that had the words to start getting close to what it made her feel.

 _Ever-changing._ )

**

Lena already can see the deep circles under her eyes once the morning finally comes, but that’s hours from now. It doesn’t make this any easier.

It’s a familiar feeling sleeping next to Kara, or just laying next to her to be honest, neither of them are getting any closer to sleep, or even a rest. It’s a talk they’ve been delaying for way too long, until they couldn’t ignore anymore.

Kara had gotten hurt. It was something she couldn’t prevent every time, it was something completely out of her control, but she was hurt, pale and lifeless for longer than Lena knew it was normal.

She shuffles closer, rests her hand on top her Kara’s heart to feel to persistent thump against her palm, to remind herself that she’s alive. _She’s alive._ Their legs tangle together, warm and heavy, grounding Lena to this moment, the furthest away from that day when she grabbed at Kara’s hand and it was cold and still.

They needed some time away from National City, but it was a lie. They needed some time away from Supergirl.

This one was too close, too risky, and the jarred scar that cut through Kara’s left side, an inch too much to the right to miss her heart completely, was gone, like it was never there to begin with.

But it had been, because Lena was there to see as the wound closing when Kara was under sun lamps, chest rising in uneven breaths. She doesn’t remember being that scared in her life, as she stained the screen of her phone with red to call Sam, ask her to stay with Luke and Kyle for a couple of days.

It all feels so far in the past, because Kara’s body allows her to forget, allows herself to just look at her, perfection in every square inch of impenetrable skin, and think that she’s safe.

 _National City will always need Supergirl_.

She hides her face on the side of Kara’s neck, breathes her in, she hasn’t slept for the past three days, because closing her eyes meant remembering, and remembering meant that it was real. That she almost lost Kara. That Kara was dead for eighty six seconds.

Eighty six seconds that Lena hadn’t breathed, body frozen still, heart giving out with Kara’s.

Kara had _died_ , because she made a choice to save everyone instead of waiting for the DEO and dealing with some casualties. Reckless ( _selfless_ ) Kara, that had opened her eyes after over half a day and cracked a joke, then coughed blood and passed out again.

 _Supergirl will always need National City_.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

It could’ve been Lena’s words, it should’ve been Lena’s words, because she couldn’t stand back and see Kara get hurt time and time again. She couldn’t stand back and almost lose her again.

And again.

And again.

Until almost was no longer necessary.

(She would never say it though, she would never be that selfish, because Kara needed Supergirl, like Supergirl needed Kara, and the thought would be shoved into the back of her mind in the moment Kara smiled at her again, the blue uniform tight around her muscles, wind swept hair falling perfectly over her shoulders.)

But it’s said in Kara’s voice, fingers sliding easily to her low back, skin against skin, warm because of the blood running through her veins, she was real, and here. _Alive_.

( _Alive_.)

“I can’t be Supergirl anymore.” It’s just a statement, if she would dissect it words by word. It was just a phrase, and she knew the meaning of every word separately but they made no sense when put in this order.

They made no sense, because Kara couldn’t mean-

No, Kara won’t give up on-

“I could only think of you, Jamie, Kyle, Luke, that I wouldn’t go back to you. That I wouldn’t get to see Jamie graduate from college, or Kyle’s first soccer game and Luke’s spelling contest next weekend, and teaching our grandchildren Krytonian. I could only think of you, going back home and sleeping in an empty bed that would never smell like me again.”

“Kara-”

“I didn’t tell you I loved you that morning, I thought I’d say it during dinner, because it always makes Kyle gag and Luke giggle, and then, then I, Lena, I-”

_Died._

Died is the word Kara is looking for but cannot say. Her heart stopped beating and her blood stilled inside her body, her chest didn’t rise for one minute and twenty six seconds.

She moves then, swiftly, even when her low back begs her to stop and go back to her previous position, she lets her right thigh find it’s way to the outside of Kara’s left, straddles her waist.

Kara isn’t crying, even though her voice cracked at every syllable, but she has this panicked look in her eyes, like she never thought she would go through that, like she’s only now realizing how much she has to lose. Lena understands, because she feels that every single damn morning when she wakes up, to not take all the happiness she has for granted.

Reality seemed to crash down onto Kara for the first time.

Kara’s hands are rough, but always so delicate when they touch her skin, like Lena would break at any pressure she applied, and they feel the same when Lena urges them to touch.

Her fingers take their time on the skin of her thighs, over the paler stretch marks, old and new, up to her sides, caressing every single dark freckle from her hips to the two on the left side of her stomach, to the single on in the middle of her sternum, to the set on her right clavicle. Her touch is not new, but her look is.

Eyes set into a determination Lena was yet to see, admiration and love, all mixed together and Lena could get lost into it for eternity.

She doesn’t, instead she leans down, braces her hands on Kara’s abs (they’re the same from the first time she was able to touch them, _time’s ticking_ ), kisses her sweetly, begs for Kara to stay with her in this moment.

It’s an important conversation, one they threatened to cross the line to have way too many times until the line crossed them on its own volition.

She wants Kara to know that she doesn’t have to, because she doesn’t, her actions are beautiful, and it’s a part of her to put everyone else before her, and save lives, and be a role model. It doesn’t matter how much it hurts her to say them, those are the words of truth, because she can’t be so selfish to agree on Kara giving up on a part of herself.

She wants Kara to know that she would never hold it against her if one day she was gone, not if it happened while she was out there saving the world, sending an example to humanity, making the world better for their kids to grow up.

She wants Kara to know that Supergirl is also a part of Kara that she fell in love with and she never wants Kara to lose a part of herself.

But her voice fails her, because she wants to be selfish, she wants Kara to live long enough to see their grand grand children she’ll never get to meet, and make sure that Jamie’s grandchildren marry the right people, and that L-Corp will always be a force for good.

For once she wants to be selfish. (She deserves to be selfish.)

Lena doesn’t know how to be selfish.

“I love you.” She whispers instead, kisses Kara deeply, presses their bare chests together. “I love you and I’ll support any decision you make as long as you do it for yourself, I don’t want you to do it because of me, because one day you might wake up and miss the part of yourself you gave up.”

“I won’t.” Kara kisses her again, circles her arms around her waist, whispers against tight shut lips. “I won’t, I won’t, I promise I won’t.”

The room is dark, but Lena swears she’s never seen such clarity in blue eyes, so much resolve, she’s never seen Kara so sure of something. (She had seen her so sure of so many things before that it kind of scares her that maybe Kara had a little doubt back then.)

“National City has Dreamer and the DEO, they don’t need Supergirl anymore. I don’t need Supergirl anymore, Lena. She was a part of Kara Danvers.” She breathes out a disbelieving laugh, heart beating so strongly against her chest that Lena doesn’t have to make much effort to feel it. “You reminded me of what is like to be Kara Zor-El, I don’t need anything else. I just need you and our family.”

Kara turns them around, places Lena’s weight down the mattress gently, then ever so slowly lets her own body cover hers.

Every touch echoes _I need you_ , and Lena needs her just as much.

**

Alex follows her out, the sun is already way past the tree lines, barely twenty minutes of natural sunlight still out for grab and Kara intended on enjoying every single last second of it.

It feels like it always does, every pore of her skin opening to welcome golden rays, converting its energy into her own, powering her body, allowing her to do the impossible if she so wished. She doesn’t anymore.

Her sister stops by her side, looks out the horizon following Kara’s gaze. It’s a beautiful place, isolated, no sounds but nature for miles and miles away, only to be picked up by Kara’s ears if she wished, unlike the constant reminder of life around her in the city. She kinda longed for this feeling of quietness before she even understood it.

Her sister stops by her side and she knows there’s no escaping anymore. It’s been more than obvious that something is up from the moment they left the bedroom, with how Kara wouldn’t stay away from Lena for more than two minutes, always touching, making sure that she’s still here.

They were always annoyingly touchy, as Alex seemed to point out at every opportunity she had, but Kara knows today is even more.

It was on how she would tug at Lena’s hand when she stood up, a silent plea for her to come back, until she relented and eased herself into Kara’s lap, lingering sweet kiss into her lips.

On how Kara traced the soft greenish veins on Lena’s hands, as they had lunch, and talked and laughed.

On how Kara’s eyes would follow every single trace of Lena’s figure like it was the first time she’d ever seen them.

Maybe this is what is like to be in love, actually, this is exactly what is like to be in love and she doubts she’ll ever stop feeling this way. She loves Lena, and she's not someone to do things halfheartedly.

She loves with her whole heart, body and soul.

(Lena loves her just as much.)

“Spill.” Always to the point, it’s so unmistakably _Alex_ that she can’t help but grin at her sister.

“I’m just happy.”

“Happier.” Alex elbows her side, a playful gesture and Kara finally looks at her, really looks. Alex is older. Forty. Aged and mature, a lot more alike their mother, hair trimmed to perfection, clearly done by Sam, a dark muscle tee and jeans, and Kara is sure Sam was the one who bought that shirt for her. (They need to figure things out, it got boring ten years ago.) “You look happier.”

Kara wouldn’t say that happy was even the right emotion, more like clarity. Realization that time was passing and she didn’t have much time with those she loved the most so she should make the best out of what she had.

Clarity. Such a simple, small concept, that opened her eyes to what was the most important for her.

Clarity. Like marrying Lena, fostering, adopting, growing old together.

Clarity, and her decision feels inevitable.

“It’s the usual, you know.” She shrugs her shoulder up, nonchalantly. “Our daughters are dating, Lena and I are going to have another baby, I’m stepping down from being National City’s on call superhero, nothing much.”

Alex smiles sadly, as if she knew, as if she’d been waiting for this moment to come from the moment Lena had gotten pregnant eight years ago. Like she was resigned to the idea from the start.

(Like five days ago sealed the deal once and for all.)

“I’m glad.” Alex takes a side step closer to her, swings her arm over Kara’s shoulder to bring them into a side hug, and Kara has never felt so at peace. She needed the validation, and it needed to be from Alex, because it would mean that she understood. She does. She really does. “And can I suggest Alex? Perfect for a child. It’s amazing, no gender specific, fluid, short but sweet.”

“Alex.”

“I mean it!”

Kara laughs, wraps Alex in a real hug, Kara loves her. Nothing made more sense than this.

“Thank you.” She whispers into her ear, tugs Alex a little closer, a little stronger, and she’s met with the same will. “Thank you.”

“Congratulations and happy retirement.”

“Don’t have too much fun without me.”

She hears the laughter, deep and full, Alex’s, and sighs into the embrace. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> You know where to find me: tumblr and twitter @broodyJC


End file.
